


Star Chase

by ImpishTubist



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chronic Pain, Fluff, Genderfluid Character, Kid Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: Fallen demons weren't meant to fly, but then, fallen demonsalsoweren't supposed to have an imagination. Crowley had an imagination, and he imagined that he could still fly with broken wings, and so he did.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Star Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Queen’s “Long Away.”

Crowley woke with two bony knees shoved into his lower back, and huffed. 

“Raisa.” He reached behind him and pushed her gently out of the way so he could roll over. Two yellow eyes glittered at him in the dark. “What are you doing here?”

“When’s Papa coming home?” she whispered. She was curled up on Aziraphale’s side of the bed, her head on his pillow, blankets drawn around her shoulders. She must have crept in sometime after Crowley had fallen asleep, the little devil. 

“Not for another three days.” He tweaked her nose. “And _you_ should be asleep. In your _own_ bed.”

“Not tired.” 

“Well, then, _I_ should be asleep.” He opened his arms, and she cuddled up against him. He stroked her hair. “Come on, close your eyes.”

He fell asleep again; she did not. It wasn’t for very long--when he opened his eyes again an hour later, she was still wide-awake and waiting patiently for him to be, too. 

“What, was my bedtime story not good enough?” Crowley grumbled. She always stayed asleep whenever Aziraphale put her to bed.

“No,” Raisa said. “Not as good as Papa’s.”

“Thanks.” 

“Can we go flying?”

Crowley sighed. What he _wanted_ was another several hours of sleep, but Aziraphale’s trip back to London had dragged on for several more days than they’d intended, and Raisa had never been without him for so long before. The three of them had rarely been apart since her birth shortly after their move to the South Downs. 

“All right.” He kissed her forehead. “Go get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

The night was warm and balmy, but the air would be cool once they were aloft. Crowley made Raisa put on a jumper, which she protested until it became clear he wouldn't let her fly unless she was warmly dressed. Her wings were unfurled the moment her feet hit the path outside the cottage, and she launched herself into the air. Crowley was faster, and snagged her around the waist.

"Nice try, my little unholy terror," he said, holding on tight until she huffed and put her wings away. "You know the rules. No wings until we're out of sight of the houses."

"But Dad, it's dark, no one's going to see anything!"

"You'd be surprised what humans notice," Crowley said. He lowered her to the ground and took her hand, and they walked down the winding trail to the beach. "They can be inconveniently perceptive creatures."

"You could just do a miracle," Raisa pointed out.

"Can't rely on miracles for everything, little one," he said. "Besides, you use too many miracles on the same humans and you risk scrambling their brains. Papa likes our neighbors, so we probably shouldn't drive them insane." 

"I guess," Raisa said with a heavy sigh. 

The thin strip of beach at the base of the cliffs was deserted this time of night. It was typically deserted during the day, too, as it was accessible only by the path that ran near their cottage on the outskirts of town. There were no lights on the cliffs or the horizon. No one else was about. Crowley manifested his wings, then motioned that Raisa could do the same. 

His wings were an inky black, while Aziraphale's reminded him of puffy clouds on a summer day. Raisa's were neither, but rather a glossy silver that was almost iridescent. In full light, her wings reflected a multitude of shimmering colors--reds and blues, greens and yellows, golds and purples. At night, without a moon, her wings looked almost as dark as his own. 

"Where do you want to go?" he asked her. He had imposed rules on their nighttime flights--no flying over houses or populated areas, no straying more than a mile from him, don't fly too high or too fast. 

Raisa chewed her lip, and then said, "Can we go out over the water?" 

Crowley's instinct was to say _no,_ but the irritating voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like Aziraphale reprimanded him for it. Aziraphale had worked hard with her over the summer to turn her into a decent swimmer, so if she fell into the water, Crowley knew that she would be fine. Besides, he would be right next to her. 

"All right," he said. "Stick close to me, though, okay?" 

He spread his wings, and launched himself into the air. His wings ached like they always did, and he had to grit his teeth against the pain of broken feathers and torn muscle. Fallen demons weren't meant to fly, but then, fallen demons _also_ weren't supposed to have an imagination. Crowley had an imagination, and he imagined that he could still fly with broken wings, and so he did. To the outside observer, his wings looked pristine and intact--he’d imagined that, as well.

Raisa followed him into the air. She had only been flying for a year now, and her movements were less refined than his own, but she was an enthusiastic learner. It wouldn't be long, Aziraphale said, before she could fly on her own without either of them around, though Crowley had immediately shushed him and hoped that Raisa hadn't overheard the comment. She might be born of a demon and an angel, but she was also only five years old, and he was _not_ about to let her out on her own just yet. 

Crowley dove for the surface of the water. Raisa followed in his wake. He flew low enough so he could let his fingers trail along the surface, skimming the waves. Raisa giggled as she was hit with some of the spray. He pulled up, and hovered in place while Raisa flew circles around him.

“Somersault!” he called to her, and she flipped over easily in the air. “Very good!”

“Dad, watch this!” she said, and folded her wings and dropped like a stone. Just before hitting the surface of the water, she spread her wings and beat them furiously, rocketing back up to where he hovered. 

“You’re getting stronger,” he told her. “All right, go fly. Just don’t go out of my sight.” 

Raisa spent an hour flying up and down this small piece of the coast, practicing all the maneuvers they had taught her over the past year. She hadn’t yet mastered the ability to hover in one place like Crowley could, and some of her sharp turns were still a little clumsy, but Aziraphale was right--she was almost to the point where she wouldn’t need their supervision anymore.

He wondered how much longer it would be before the full extent of her powers set in. She had only sprouted wings two years ago, and since then had performed a slew of accidental miracles, usually when she was feeling some great emotion. She had caused localized rain showers when she was upset, and made flowers bloom out of season when she was particularly happy.

The fact of the matter was, they were in uncharted waters with Raisa. As far as either of them knew, no angel and demon had ever reproduced together. Angels had mated with humans in the past and produced the monstrous nephilim, but a union such as theirs was unheard of. They didn't know what to expect as she grew up.

Crowley could only stay aloft for so long. The burning pain in his wings and at the juncture where they met his back could no longer be ignored, and he was losing altitude with every beat of his wings. 

"Raisa!" he called to her. "Time to land!" 

Even given the distance between them, he could hear her loud sigh, but she obeyed. Crowley angled his wings and dove for the beach. He landed on the soft sand and stumbled, almost going to his knees. He recovered and straightened, forcing his wings back into non-existence and letting out a slow, pained breath. A heartbeat later, Raisa landed gracefully next to him, and tucked her own wings away. 

“Tired, yet?” he asked, ruffling her hair. “Should we go back home?”

“No,” she giggled, ducking away from his hand, and then she bolted into the night. 

Groaning, Crowley sucked in a deep breath, and then ran after her. Even hampered by the sand sliding under his feet, he was faster than she was. He caught her about the waist and tackled her gently to the ground, so that he ended up on his back and she landed on top of him. She laughed as he sputtered, and it took a quick miracle to get the sand out of his eyes and mouth. 

“Again!” she exclaimed, squirming, but he held on fast.

“Ugh, sweetheart, Dad’s tired,” he groaned. “No more.” 

Raisa pouted. “Please?”

“No.” He adjusted his grip on her, and she settled more comfortably on him. “Listen, when Papa gets home, you can have him take you out flying _all_ night. And he’ll chase you up and down the beach as many times as you want.” 

She must have been more tired than she let on, because she agreed with a soft, “Okay, Dad.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. She sighed and snuggled closer, and part of him ached for the baby she had been only five short years before. 

“Dad.” She pointed at the sky. “Which one’s that?” 

“Sirius,” he answered, and tickled her ribs. “You _know_ that one.” 

“What about that one?” 

“Rigel.” 

“And that one?” 

“Pollux.” 

She huffed. “Those are all _human_ names. What did _you_ call them when you made them?”

Crowley’s hands stilled. 

“I don’t know, baby,” he said after a moment. “I don’t remember.” 

“Oh.” She fell silent. 

There was a gentle ripple to his left, almost like a breeze, but no air ghosted across Crowley’s face. Instead, he turned his head to see Aziraphale materialize next to them on the sand. 

“Fortunately, dearest, I _do_ remember those first star names,” Aziraphale said. “Someday, if you want, I’ll tell you what they are.”

“Papa!” Raisa was up in a flash, and threw herself at Aziraphale. Crowley grunted as her bony limbs caught him in some of his corporation’s sensitive places. _Somebody,_ but human bodies were so fragile!

“Hello, my love.” Aziraphale scooped her up into his arms and kissed her cheeks noisily. “Oh, I have missed you.”

“What about me, angel?” 

Aziraphale sat cross-legged in the sand, settling Raisa in his lap. He looked down at Crowley, his lips quirked in amusement.

“Oh, I suppose I missed you as well, you old serpent.” 

Crowley pushed himself into a sitting position and kissed him. Aziraphale tasted of sugar and sunshine, and he smiled against Crowley’s lips. 

“Glad you’re home, angel,” Crowley murmured. “Cut the trip short?’

“No, we finished up much earlier than expected. What are you doing, keeping Raisa up far past her bedtime?”

“She’s the one keeping me up past _my_ bedtime!” Crowley protested. “We did some flying out over the water.” 

“Is that right?” Aziraphale said to Raisa. “And did you have fun, dearest?”

“Yeah, but Dad says no more for tonight.” Raisa tried out her pout on Aziraphale, who of course didn’t fall for it.

“Your dad is perfectly correct. It’s much too late for more flying tonight, but perhaps tomorrow we can take you out again.” 

He set her on her feet, and then stood. He offered a hand down to Crowley and pulled him up. Crowley’s legs were still misbehaving, and he stumbled into Aziraphale. 

“Careful, darling.” Aziraphale slipped a steadying arm around his waist, and Crowley took the opportunity to steal another kiss. “Come. Let’s get the two of you to bed, hm?” 

They ambled up the hill. Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand, and Crowley tangled their fingers together. Raisa started out strong, but lagged near the end, and Aziraphale lifted her into his arms. She was mostly asleep by the time they crossed the cottage’s threshold.

“Go take a shower,” Aziraphale said softly to Crowley, running his hand down Crowley’s aching spine. “It will help. I’ll put her to bed.”

Crowley ran the water as hot as he could stand it, which eased some of the lingering pain in his joints, and crawled into bed after. He fell into a doze while listening to Aziraphale puttering about the cottage, unpacking the boxes of books he had magicked back to their home from London and doing whatever else it was Aziraphale did while Crowley slept.

But then the mattress next to him dipped, and Aziraphale slid into bed beside him. 

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he murmured, his lips brushing the back of Crowley’s neck. “Were things alright?”

“Yeah, Az, everything was fine.” Crowley rolled over into his arms. “She missed you something terrible, but we got by. How’s the bookshop?” 

Aziraphale prattled on for several minutes about his collection, and the new books he’d acquired, and Crowley was almost asleep again when he said, “Have you ever considered another?”

“What?” Crowley swam back to consciousness. “Another bookshop?” 

“No, darling.” Aziraphale’s chuckle reverberated through his own chest. “Another child.” 

“Angel.” Crowley cupped his face. “Yes. All the time.” 

“Not that Raisa isn’t enough, but--”

“I want a baby.” 

“All right.” Aziraphale scritched the short hairs at the base of his neck, and Crowley shivered. “Not right now, I presume?”

“Ugh.” Crowley grimaced. “M’not ready to be pregnant again. Maybe in a few years.”

“Of course.” 

“But,” Crowley said, rolling onto his back and pulling Aziraphale down on top of him, “we might as well get some practice in before then, yeah?” 

“ _Fiend_ ,” Aziraphale murmured fondly, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> "why are you like this" I whisper as I continue to write standalone one-shot kid!fics that have nothing to do with the kid!fic I _should_ [be working on](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1493594).


End file.
